


Redemption - Stewjon Landing: Journey of the Soul

by Onassis



Series: The Kyber Crystal series [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force Sensitivity, Gangsters, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Jedi vs gangsters, Kyber Crystals, Obi-Wan goes looking for his family, Obi-Wan's family, Personal Growth, Post-Episode: s05e15 The Lawless, Stewjon, estranged fatherhood, idyllic countryside hides terrible secrets, pathway towards manhood, tough rich grandma, what he finds is not what he expected
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-11-29 11:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11439912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onassis/pseuds/Onassis
Summary: Takes place between Chapter  11 and Chapter 12 of the story "Redemption" by Onassis. Post S5E15 The Lawless.When Obi-Wan told Anakin he needed time alone to "seek knowledge", he had something precise in mind.





	1. Intro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I decided to separate the journey of Obi-Wan to his homeplanet from "Redemption" because it is a sort of independent plot, and not extremely relevant (though still related) to the developments of the main story.  
> However, if you are curious to see what happens between chapter 11 and 12, or if you just feel like reading about Obi-Wan's "birth family", I hope you will enjoy this.  
>   
> This is set right after the Lawless, S5E15 of the Clone Wars.

_The spaceship took off in a swirl of red, blue and green lights; the nuances of which were lost and merged in a colourful cloud as it gained elevation._

_If one didn’t know what those startling lights were all about, it could’ve looked like a festive farewell of fireworks. Alas, such was not the case, for those fleeting streams were blaster fires, and the farewell the planet of Mandalore was bidding to the lone occupant of the spaceship was far from festive._

_Obi-Wan Kenobi sat in the pilot chair, perfectly aware of his surroundings, yet frozen on the spot. He didn’t turn his head to throw one last look at the spherical shape that was drifting farther and farther away, getting smaller and smaller, not even as the conviction that he would never set foot there ever again paved itself through his mind._

_Perhaps Master Kenobi simply didn’t have it in him to think properly in that moment, let alone make plans for something as ephemeral as the future._

_Once in hyperspace, he stood up._

_Reaching Coruscant took its time, but for the entirety of the trip Obi-Wan only moved minimally, as if trapped in a frozen cocoon, staring at a blank spot in front of him, occasionally gripping his chin to stop it from trembling._

_He was in a sort of blurry limbo, one where he could only formulate half-thoughts without fully connecting any dots._

_Later on, he would identify that behavior as a coping mechanism._

_He didn’t even attempt meditating, nor releasing anything in the Force, aware that if he did, he would have to face a_ painful _truth. He only asked for strength, and it was granted to him, to an extent._

_Only when he saw the bustling sphere of Coruscant in the distance did he sit again._

_Sighing, he swallowed a hard lump which had formed in his throat._

_“Don’t think about it” he imposed himself._

_“Don’t”_

_It was killing him inside._


	2. It ends where it begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Straight after his confrontation with Anakin (Redemption chapter 11), Obi-Wan makes a rushy and instinctual decision, the culmination of an already atypical series of rushy and instinctual decisions. Rebel Kenobi at his zenith.

Obi-Wan walked straight to the créche, knowing exactly what to do, as if someone had activated some sort of protocol microchip inside his brain. It is safe to say that, due to not thinking clearly, he was operating grossly on autopilot. Or instinctually, depending on the viewpoint.

The créche’s soft colors and bright windows, as well as its familiarity, provided the soothing effect he was yearning. The cooing of younglings reminded him that a helping hand was always welcome with the little ones.

However, Obi-Wan had other, specific purposes for being there.

He moved swiftly and unhesitatingly, afraid that if he did linger he would begin questioning the righteousness of his actions, giving up on his plan altogether. And he couldn’t allow it.

He opened drawers, searched cribs, examined the floor, looking for  _one single item_.

After a few minutes of this, he began to acknowledge the irrationality of his idea. He presumed the object he was searching must have ended in a bin a long time ago, due to wear and tear.

He thought it ironic that the very place where the letting go of attachments was inculcated in him - the Jedi Temple créche - was also the place where the symbol of his first attachment had been stored.

It was something he’d never truly forgotten. It was this visceral, primordial echo of a past which was once his that prevented him from giving up, leading him to a crib containing a Rodian youngling, fast asleep and wrapped in a cozy - if visibly worn out - blanket.

 

Obi-Wan brightened up for a moment at the sight of it, extending his hand to feel the woolen texture under his fingers.

In its essence, it was exactly as he recalled it: warm, comforting, slightly rough, a bit melancholic.

As he stood there, lost in his thoughts, touching the blanket he’d arrived at the Jedi Temple with thirty-seven years earlier - the only remaining physical link connecting him to his homeplanet - the young Rodian squirmed uncomfortably under his palm. He had probably sensed all the distress and grief he was carrying.

Obi-Wan immediately retracted, feeling guilty.

Making an effort to empty his mind, he carefully swapped his old blanket with a synthetic fiber one he found hanging on one of the crib’s edges.

He reveled in the softness of the fabric, incredulous at his emotional involvement with that old piece of wool. Its original white color had yellowed a bit from all the washing, and it was slightly threadbare, but the annexed tiny silver plane was still there, reporting his name and place of birth in exact coordinates.

That was his starting point; it was curious that it was also the point he was at now, after the previous day’s events.

They had consumed themselves together, the blanket and himself: the former as a utility to the generations of younglings residing in the Temple’s créche; the latter on the battlefields of a war that was becoming less and less for the people and more and more for interests which had not much to do with democracy, necessarily. Called to his duty without a day’s rest.

Observing the holes and loose threads, as well as the coarse appearance of the blanket, Obi-Wan couldn’t help but acknowledge his own consumed, spent, hardened look, which reflected his soul. He had sprang back on service after every episode of physical and emotional injury, but had he really realized how broken he was, until now, until this  _terrible blow_  sent all the shards shattering? His precariously held-together castle of glass was crumbling before his eyes.

After a sleepless night filled with unshed tears and regret, Obi-Wan had matured the semi-rational decision that, to save himself - and as a consequence, most importantly, Anakin along with his Padawan - he needed to leave everything he’d ever known behind.

The amount of pain he was in by simply breathing in a reality which used to contain Satine was unbearable, this he couldn’t deny, as much as he tried.

He needed to flee, to head back to block one, all the while trying to retrace the steps of his own history - and accept the very aspect of life he, as a Jedi, was trained not to give ground to: attachments.

To achieve so, he couldn’t think of anything other than returning on Stewjon. The Force was hinting he would find answers there. For once, Obi-Wan found no qualms in following Qui-Gon’s teachings of living in the here and now and let himself be guided by his instincts.

 

As he hurried past symmetrical corridors and geometrically harmonious rooms with long strides, he only had one thing in mind: reaching the Mandalorian spaceship he’d landed in the previous day. His surroundings were just a background noise, a buzzing that didn’t make much sense. He ignored curious Padawan Caleb Dume’s incredulous look as he rushed past him with a darkened expression, Mandalorian armor still on.

He was supposed to soon begin a week-long meditative retreat anyway, so he didn’t have to worry about Cody and his men, the only potential moral impediment to his plan. For some reason, as disgruntled as he was, he didn’t feel compelled to notify his fellow Council members of his intentions, erring of insolence for maybe the first time in his life.

 

Reaching the Jedi Temple landing dock, Obi-Wan found the ship parked right where he’d left it, outside the hangar. He climbed the ramp, shutting himself in and turning the control panel on before he had any time to rethink his actions.

With his blanket on his lap, he punched in the coordinates for Stewjon, .

The familiar, overpowering rumble of engines encompassed his senses and mind, enacting a sort of catharsis on him.

 

Shortly before exiting the atmosphere of Coruscant, he heard a familiar beep.

Believing it to be a fruit of his imagination, he turned his head, and was surprised too see a blue and white astrodroid approaching.

“R2?” he asked incredulously.

The round machine bleeped jovially.

Obi-Wan suddenly understood.

“Oh, Anakin”.

 

\--

 

On the Jedi landing docks, while hiding behind a container, Anakin observed his Master almost run inside the spaceship Bo-Katan had arranged for him to use.

His intuition had been correct: Obi-Wan was urgently headed somewhere.

It was not an easy decision for Anakin, to let his Master go without trying to stop him, or follow him, but his gut instinct told him that he should step back, leaving Obi-Wan to sort things out of his own.

After all, it’s Anakin we’re talking about: the king of egocentricity, a childhood trait he’d never outgrown. He  _had_  to be involved in everything that he considered “his”, so this decision was not as easy on him as one can expect.

He wouldn’t lie, he resented him for not confiding in him, his disappointment embittered by the Rako Hardeen “betrayal”, which still stung. Anakin suspected he shouldn’t allow such sentiments to take over, but with the bond they shared, he felt entitled to. A softer part of him, one which still liked to believe he and Obi-Wan could be more “real” in their interactions than the other Jedi, was prone to justify his behavior on his distraught, shame-ridden state of mind.

His naughtier self was actually enthusiast at having found a chance to support one of the rare rebellious streaks his Master ever exhibited.

Remembering Padmé’s words, willing to show Obi-Wan his unlimited support in the same way a close friend or brother would, Anakin had accepted parting from his loyal astrodroid, asking R2-D2 to accompany his Master in all of his whereabouts. To everyone who knew Anakin, this was clearly momentous, for he was known to be a jealous owner of the zealous astromech. He knew Obi-Wan would get the message.

“Go, Artooie. The old man will understand. Spray him with oil if he’s unkind to you”.

He smirked as R2 diligently rolled inside Obi-Wan’s ship.

 

Once Master and astromech had taken off, Anakin unexplainably felt a warm tingling surge through him. He wanted to be positive, he surely did. He and his Master would emerge strengthened after all this was over. Wouldn’t they?

“May the Force be with you, Obi-Wan” he murmured solemnly before going looking for Ahsoka.

 


End file.
